


Brute Force

by coraxes



Series: Tumblr Femslash Prompts [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Default Hawke, F/F, First Kiss, flirty sparring is my jam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 08:57:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4342214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coraxes/pseuds/coraxes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Just out of curiosity, what's the inquisition's annual budget for training dummies?"</p><p>Cassandra breaks yet another dummy, and Hawke offers a solution.  Or: Cassandra is clueless and Hawke flirts the only way she knows how.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brute Force

Cassandra raised her sword, ignoring the twinge of pain in her forearm; a bear had gotten a hit in on the inquisitor’s last excursion to the Hinterlands, but she had fought through far worse.  She took a few practice swings at the least-battered training dummy, letting her muscles get used to the motion—

 

Her sword struck the pole holding up the dummy, and with a loud _crack,_ it broke in half.  “ _Ugh._ ” 

 

“Just out of curiosity,” said a familiar voice above her, “what’s the inquisition’s annual training dummy budget?”

 

Cassandra sighed and looked up at what she was beginning to think of as Hawke’s usual spot.  The woman was sitting between two merlons directly above Cassandra, idly kicking her legs, apparently not caring that she was fifty feet above the ground.  Ever since Hawke had returned from Weisshaupt a few weeks before, she’d made a habit of coming to watch Cassandra practice, usually heckling her in the process. 

 

Hawke continued without waiting for Cassandra’s answer.  “You go through, what, two or three a day?  How much do training dummies cost?  On average, how many days would you say you spend at Skyhold every month?”

 

“Is there a point to this, Hawke?” Cassandra asked, cutting off the woman before she could go on one of her spiels.  Hawke, Cassandra had found, often went on spiels.  She supposed it came with being one of Varric’s friends.

 

Unruffled by the interruption, Hawke said, “Want to try and beat me up instead?”  Her heels _thunked_ against the stone wall.

 

“ _What_?”

 

“I’m a little sturdier than a dummy, and you’ll get more practice against someone who can fight back,” said Hawke as if it were self-evident.  “It’ll be fun.  And good practice and all that.”

 

“You don’t even know how to _hold_ a sword.”  Hawke had decided to ask Cassandra for lessons about a week before.  She kept dropping the sword.  Cassandra had adjusted the other woman’s grip and stance half a hundred times before giving up and telling Hawke to ask Blackwall instead; for someone who had utterly failed at learning anything, she’d been surprisingly cheery when she walked away.

 

Hawke shrugged.  “So?  I’m a pretty good mage.  I killed the Arishok once.”

 

She sounded so matter-of-fact about it that Cassandra snorted.  Cassandra glanced at the broken, sad-looking dummy.  “Alright.  Let’s spar, then.”

 

Hawke whooped happily, stood, and jumped off the battlements. Before Cassandra could react, the mage slowed down in midair, holding her staff above her head, and landed neatly on the ground a few feet past Cassandra.

 

Cassandra’s heart hammered in her chest with unneeded adrenaline.  “Was that necessary?” she asked, voice more high-pitched than usual, and swallowed.  She was being stupid, she told herself.  Cassandra knew what force mages could do, had seen them in action dozens of times.  It was just an instinctive reaction.

 

Hawke grinned.  “Yes,” she said, and pushed her shaggy black hair out of her face.  It fell back into place immediately.  She twirled her staff and planted the blade in the ground.  “So.  Training ring?”

 

Cassandra nodded and began to lead the way.  At least she’d be able to put that adrenaline to good use.

 

At this time of day, most of the soldiers were training with Cullen, so the training ring was empty.  A few people came over when they noticed Hawke and Cassandra making their way into the ring.  Cassandra adjusted her grip on her sword and shield.  Normally she had no problem fighting in front of strangers, but…this was with _Hawke._

 

When Varric had told her Hawke’s story, he’d accused her of feeling a bit of hero-worship towards the woman.  He hadn’t been wrong.  And even though some of it had faded when Cassandra had actually met Hawke in all her childish, infuriating, strangely charming glory, part of her _still_ wanted to impress the champion.

 

“All set, Seeker?” Hawke asked.

 

Her use of Varric’s nickname was enough to get Cassandra’s hackles up.  She got set in a stance that would allow her to move quickly away from whatever Hawke threw at her, and nodded.

 

The champion threw a fireball at Cassandra, and the Seeker dodged to the side before charging toward Hawke.  Most mages were best from a distance; up close, their magic was liable to hit themselves as well as their target.

 

Most mages were not Hawke.

 

Cassandra slammed into Hawke, shield-first, knocking her to the ground.  Hawke swiped at Cassandra’s ankles with her staff.  Cassandra leapt back and realized too late that a wave of force magic accompanied it.  Snarling with pain, she fell to her knees.  Hawke rolled to her feet, bringing her staff down for another blow.

 

Cassandra called on her seeker training and _pulled_ at something she felt only in her mind.  “Hey!” Hawke shouted petulantly as her magic was forced away from her.  “No fair—”  Cassandra parried Hawke’s staff away and jerked herself to her feet. 

 

In the few seconds Hawke was without magic, Cassandra pressed her advantage.  _One—_ she caught Hawke’s staff between her sword and shield.  _Two_ —with a quick twist, she pulled the staff from Hawke’s hands; it spun away, sticking in the mud.  _Three—_ she struck with her shield again, pushing Hawke into the wooden railing, and her blade came up to Hawke’s throat.

 

“Looks like you win,” Hawke said, grinning like the cat that caught the canary.  Her breath was hot on Cassandra’s face, and her nose was nearly touching Cassandra’s.  This close, Cassandra could see every speckle of mud dotting Hawke’s face.  It was impossible to miss when Hawke’s eye’s narrowed, but Cassandra had no time to wonder _why_ before Hawke was kissing her.

 

It was hardly anything, just a dry peck, but _Hawke was kissing her_.  Uncomprehending, Cassandra stared straight ahead at the curve of Hawke’s ear and the dark line of her eyelashes.  By the time she’d realized what was going on, Hawke was pulling away.

 

“Good fight, seeker,” Hawke said brightly.  She sidestepped Cassandra’s blade and clapped Cassandra on the shoulder companionably.   There was a small line of red at her throat that hadn’t been there before they’d kissed.  “You ever want to kick my ass again, just let me know.” 

 

There was an unmistakable strut in her walk as she picked up her staff and headed across the courtyard.

**Author's Note:**

> in case you're wondering, hawke asking for sword lessons was her way of getting cassandra to touch her. she got a very hands-on lesson.
> 
> i'm definitely not done with this pairing; there are only three fics in the category and that is a TRAVESTY
> 
> comments are <3


End file.
